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Babe You Left...
Six remnants, your shadows acutely damaged, and
Severly tortured are your survivors. Still I see
two braids slouched on your shoulders:
A Shamed Choctaw face concealed under a wide-brimmed hat;
Two beady eyes blinking, squinting above your aquiline nose, just
a squawking at your widow's peak that looks like a petite plait
Your pigeon toes touching and caressing each other somewhat like a creative child pointing to white sheep floating in the sky. Though real are the remnants compiled and concealed under your felt-hat.
Babe, you never knew that a surviving piece of you, with zest
hawked your house, land, then placed your remains in a distant land.
Yet not burying her meanness, apathy, and hate to rest.
You left your time-worn descendants holding Pandora's cache.
Misery and evil destroyed most, and one of four under continual attack.
Babe, you carried scores of secrets to cold grave's stash.
January 15,2011
poem
by
Almedia Knight Oliver
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